


Flaunt Your Mohawk

by therunawaypen



Series: 00Q Tumblr Prompt Fills [39]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), NCIS
Genre: Crossover, Hidden lifestyle, M/M, Punk, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:16:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James finds something strange in Q's suitcase, which leads him to discover things about Q that he never imagined possible. And he's not sure if he should be shocked or turned on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Q is a closet punk. You get to decide how Bond feels about this" —anon

James almost didn’t know how to react. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Because he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to believe there was a mesh shirt and platform boots in Q’s suitcase.

They were in Washington D.C. on business. Q had a conference to attend, and James was attending as protection (though, they were probably mixing business with pleasure just a bit). And James had taken it upon himself to secure the room and unpack their bags while Q was freshening up in the bathroom.

He was still staring at the shirt and boots when Q came out of the bathroom.

“I see you found my things…” Q muttered, watching James, “I suppose you’ll want an explanation.”

James cleared his throat, “Well, yes, I suppose that I would.”

Q sighed, unpacking more of the things in his suitcase, “Well…I do have a life outside MI6, believe it or not…sometimes, I like to go wild.”

The thought of Q “going wild” was just a bit much for James to swallow.

And apparently, Q could see it on his face, “I spend a majority of my time in MI6, where there are so many rules and regulations, I can’t even use my real name.” he shook his head, “So, when I get the chance…I take advantage of my freedom.”

James nodded, “Alright….”

“Look, it’s not like I’m an anarchist or I go around breaking the law.” Q continued, “Sometimes, I just want to be free to do what I want…and I happen to like the subculture.”

“So…” James looked at the boots again, “you do this when we’re back in London?”

Q nodded.

James raised an eyebrow, “Then why did you bring them here?”

Now Q looked a little sheepish, “A friend invited me to an underground concert, and I haven’t seen her in a while…so I’m going.”

“Tonight?” James raised an eyebrow. “And wait, a friend of yours? From before MI6.”

“No, she only knows me as a British intelligence computer analyst.”  Q nodded, “But we travel in some of the same academic circles.”

James nodded, “So I take it we’re going to a concert tonight?”

* * *

 

It was surreal, really, seeing Q wearing anything besides his cardigan and slacks. James was torn between being in shock about Q’s secret lifestyle…

…and being incredibly turned on by the sight of Q in leather.

The boots made Q several inches taller, not to mention shaped his calves in all the right ways. Actually, all of Q looked good in leather, especially—

“Stop staring at my arse, James.”

James grinned, “Sorry…I’m just not used to seeing this side of your arse.”

Q rolled his eyes before taking off his glasses, putting in contacts. James was surprised that Q was using, not just contacts, but colored contacts. In this case, the contacts were electric blue. Q’s eyes were all the brighter thanks to the black eyeliner he was wearing.

“You should wear something more casual, James. There won’t be martinis where we’re going.” Q chuckled, running gel through his hair, shaping it into a fauxhawk.

“I can imagine so.” James muttered, “Don’t worry about me, I’m keeping you safe, remember?”

“Yeah yeah, you’ll be armed and deadly.” Q chuckled, “I think you’ll like my friend, James. She works for the Navy.”

“A punk who works for the Navy?” James raised an eyebrow.

“Well, she’s more of a goth, but yeah.” Q smirked, “The punk is working for MI6, remember?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this has officially become a crossover! Just about everyone who commented wanted it, and someone on Tumblr prompted for a continuation, so here it is!
> 
> Alright, I'll give a cookie to whoever can name the reference in the alias Q is using!

It was very odd, driving with Q who did not look _anything_ like Q usually did. James often found himself glancing over at his lover from time to time.

“Please keep your eye on the road James. They drive on the right side of the road here.” Q smirked, “I’d much like to pick up Abby in one piece, thank you very much.”

James rolled his eyes, “This is not my first time driving in the states, Q.”

Q chuckled, “You might not want to call me Q while we’re in public, you know.”

“Of course.” James resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, “So which alias are you going with?”

“Whenever I’m in the states, I use Quatre Winner.” At James raised eyebrow, Q continued, “The story is I had a French mother who insisted on the French name since my supposed birthday is April 4th.”

James chuckled, “You just wanted a name that started with Q, didn’t you?”

“Something like that…” Q mumbled, “Oh, here’s the Navy Yard! Pull in here, she’ll meet us at the visitor’s parking lot.”

James didn’t say anything, merely following Q’s instructions. After showing the guard at the front gate their identification and their reason for being there, they were allowed to pass through to the visitors’ parking lot. “So we’re picking her up straight from work? Will she need to go back to her place and change?”

Q only smiled, “Oh no, she’ll be fine.”

Before James could inquire further, his eyes caught sight of a tall, dark figure approaching the lot. On second glance, the figure wasn’t dark, it was just wearing a lot of black. Or rather, she was wearing a lot of black, though James really should have expected as much when Q mentioned that his friend was of the gothic persuasion. And call James old fashioned, but he had been under the assumption that the gothic subculture was a bit more…somber.

Black pigtails and a bright, black lipstick-lined smile didn’t seem to fit the picture.

James was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice that Q had gotten out of the car.

“Quat!” The woman (Abby, James had to remind himself) beamed at the sight of Q, enveloping him in a tight hug.

“It’s nice to see you, Abby dear.” Q smiled, “You look wonderful! Is that a new tattoo?”

Abby grinned, “You bet! You know, you should get another one done while you’re in town.”

James’s mind ground to a halt at the thought of Q having a tattoo. He might not have known about Q’s secret life, but he _definitely_ knew that Q did not have tattoos _anywhere_ on his body.

Q only chuckled, “We’ll see. It’ll all depend on how busy our schedules are while we’re in D.C.”

A thin black eyebrow quirked upward, “ _We?_ Who is this “we” you’re referring to?” It was then that she noticed James in the drivers’ seat of the car, “And who is the stud muffin you’re hiding in your car?”

James felt his eye twitch ever so slightly as he exited the car. Just because he was out of his element did not mean he would abandon good manners.

“He’s part of the “we” I was referring to.” Q laughed, “Abby, this is James Bond, my sweetheart. James, this is Abby Scuito, forensics specialist for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Scuito.” James extended his hand in greeting.

Abby promptly ignored the hand, instead opting to embrace James in a tight hug, “You two are so adorable!” She laughed, “I love it when you get so old fashioned, Quat. I didn’t think anyone called their boyfriends “sweetheart” anymore.”

Q looked like he was resisting the urge to laugh at the sight of James being awkwardly hugged by his gothic friend, “Oh you know me, I just can’t help but indulge my inner romantic.” He smiled, “Shall we head to the concert?”

The hug was promptly ended, to James’s relief, “Oh you bet.” Abby nodded, “I’ve been waiting all year to hear The Newlydeads perform their new stuff.”

“Me too, I had to have their new album shipped to me since they don’t have them in the UK.” Q nodded, getting into the backseat of the car with Abby.

There was something in the back of James’s mind that told him that he was in for a long night…

* * *

 

It had been a long day for all of them, finishing up a case and filling out the ridiculous amount of paperwork that followed. At this point, all Tim McGee wanted to do was get back to his apartment and sleep through the entire weekend.

“Probie!”

McGee groaned, stopping his path from his desk to the elevator and turning back to his partner. He had been _so close_ , “What, Tony?”

The senior field agent smirked, “I was just wondering if you knew where our favorite goth was.” He held up a black leather wallet, “This fell out of her purse, I’m sure she’ll need it.”

“She’s already left.” Ziva commented, not looking up from her computer, “She mentioned something about seeing a concert with her friend Kitty—no, Cat, that’s what it was.”

“Cat?” Tony frowned, “Since when does she have a friend named Cat?”

Ziva only shrugged in response. McGee sighed, pulling out his phone. “Maybe you could find out, Tony, if you just called her.”

“Huh…” Tony frowned, “It’s never that easy for us.”

McGee rolled his eyes, “Sure it isn’t…Hey Abby.”

“ _Hey McGee! What’s up? Please don’t tell me there’s not another case to work.”_

“Oh no, it’s not that.” McGee shook his head, “Tony said you dropped your wallet in the lab.”

“ _Oh shoot.”_ There were voices in the background. Male voices talking to Abby, “ _…oh, McGee just said I left my wallet at work…no, we don’t need to go back, Quat, he knows the place we’re going, he can just bring it to me.”_

“Abby?”

_“Oh, sorry McGee, just talking to Quat and James. Can you swing by the Underground? You still remember where that is, right?”_

McGee shook his head, “That’s where you took me to hear Plastic Death, yeah?”

“ _You bet! See you in a bit!”_

“No, Abby, wait!” But Abby had already hung up. He sighed. So much for going home… “I guess I’m bringing Abby her wallet.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Well that settles it, I’m coming with you.” He smirked, “Nothing like seeing a goth in her natural habitat.”

“And the fact that she has a friend has nothing to do with it?” Ziva chuckled.

“Well I hate to break it to you, Tony,” McGee grabbed Abby’s wallet, “But all the voices I heard Abby talking to were male.”

The smile on Tony’s face wilted slightly, but didn’t fall, “Well we better make sure she doesn’t get herself another stalker boyfriend.”

McGee rolled his eyes, turning back to the elevator. It was going to be a long night…


	3. Chapter 3

“So are you thinking Mohawk, cuz I’m definitely thinking Mohawk with this guy, he definitely sounds like a Mohawk kind of guy—”

“Tony, you haven’t heard _anything_ about this guy other that he is a guy and that he is Abby’s friend.” The night was stretching on for an age as far as McGee was concerned, and Tony was only proving to make it last infinitely longer.

“And that his name is Cat.” Tony added, steepling his fingers in an attempt to make himself look like he was solving a great puzzle, “I’m thinking gay on this one; no straight man goes by the name Cat.”

McGee shook his head, “It could be short for something, Tony.”

“Like what, Catherine?” Tony rolled his eyes, then paused, “Oh, I didn’t even think of the possibility of a tranny…”

“Just try not to kiss this one, Tony.” McGee replied dryly, pulling into the parking lot of the Underground and parking, “Come on, Abby’s probably waiting for us so she can get in to the concert.”

Tony looked about ready to smack McGee on the back of the head for mentioning Tony’s past with transvestites, but the junior agent was already out of the car, so the senior field agent could do nothing but follow McGee out of the car and across the parking lot, “You’ve actually been here, Probie? I can’t believe Abby managed to drag you to one of her deathmetal concerts.”

“You know how persuasive Abby can be.” Tim shook his head before pointing toward one of the building’s entrances, “There’s Abby.”

It was hard to miss the over 6-foot tall forensic tech as she waved a long arm in their direction, bouncing slightly in her platform boots.

“See, what did I tell you? Mohawk.” Tony grinned to himself as he noticed the black clad by Abby, “And gay, judging by how tight those leather pants are. Totally called it…whoa whoa whoa, hold up.” Tony placed a hand on Tim’s chest, stopping them from walking further, “Who’s the other guy?”

McGee sighed deeply as Tony gestured to the man in the suit behind the two goths, “That’s probably James.” He shook his head, “You can let go now, Tony.”

But Tony didn’t let go, “My feebie senses are going off big time on this one, Probie. What kind of person wears a suit to a place like this?”

“Have you failed to notice what we’re wearing, Tony?” McGee rolled his eyes, continuing to walk toward Abby.

“Exactly, Probie, and _we’re_ federal agents.” Tony hissed, catching up with Tim, “Mark my works, the man is a fed.”

Tim shook his head, “Even federal agents have social lives, Tony. He wouldn’t have been the first federal agent to go to one of these concerts.”

“Yeah, but did you go in your suit?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

McGee just smiled, “That would be telling.” He chuckled as he approached Abby, “Sorry it took so long to get here, Abby, Tony insisted on coming along for the ride.”

Abby laughed, giving McGee a quick hug, “No worries, the concert hasn’t even started yet.” She beamed, “But now you guys get to meet Quat and James!” She grabbed the petite punk beside her, “This is Quatre Winner. Quat, these are Tim McGee and Anthony DiNozzo, friends from work!”

“It’s a pleasure,” Cat, Quatre, extended his hand, shaking both Tony and Tim’s hands. The posh accent was a bit of a surprise coming from a punk mouth, but it wasn’t the biggest surprise either agent had faced.

“Please call me Tony,” Tony added, “And I guess this is why we’ve never heard of you before, it’s a little hard to visit from across the Atlantic.”

“Well met.” Quatre chuckled, “Oh, before I forget, this is my boyfriend, James.” He smiled to the man in the suit.

James nodded, extending his own hand in salutation, “James Bond, at your service.”

The men continued to exchange handshakes until the sound of heavy rock music began to play, “Oh, we better head inside.” Quatre chuckled.

McGee nodded, handing Abby her wallet, “Have fun Abby, but not too much fun, you never know when Gibbs will call us in.”

Abby chuckled, “Try not to find any dead sailors until tomorrow, alright?”

“One can hope.” Tony grinned, giving the concert goers a quick wave as they headed inside and the two NCIS agents returned to McGee’s car, “I was totally right. Didn’t I call him being gay? And the other dude was totally carrying a concealed weapon and…Probie, are you even listening to me?”

McGee shook his head as he got into his car, “Tony, something was definitely off about them.”

“Well I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting them to be British, but—”

“No Tony, I mean that I’m 99% certain that Quatre Winner is a fake name.”

* * *

 

God James was in for a long night. The concert was packed, the music was blasting through his ear drums, and it was near impossible to keep an eye on Q.

Only the fact that Q was holding James’s hand as they made their way through the concert kept James from losing the Quartermaster (and what a disaster that would be).

“Where are we going?” James shouted to Q as they weaved through the throng of people.

Q smiled, “Abby says this is the best place in the whole building to enjoy the concert!”

They were making their way towards the stage, so there were numerous people crowded there under the stage’s blacklights. And as they made their way closer, and the blacklights cast their glow over the three of them, James began to see ink glowing against Q’s skin. A serpent peeking out from Q’s neckline, a black widow spider crawling down his left arm, a thorny vine curled around his right arm.

“Hey Quat, the spider is new, when did you get that done?” Abby laughed over the screech of the music.

Q only smiled, “I’ve only had it a few weeks.”

James could only stare. And here he had thought Q could surprise him no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teehee, of course Q would have tattoos done in special ink!


	4. Chapter 4

“You want to run that one by me again, McGee?” Tony raised an eyebrow, watching Tim through narrowed eyes.

McGee sighed. “Look, I just recognize the name Quatre Winner, alright?” He shook his head, “It’s probably nothing.”

Tony put a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Oh no you don’t, you don’t get to raise suspicion on someone we just left alone with Abby and then say it’s nothing. Now tell me what you found hinky.”

There was really nothing for it then. “Alright, I recognize the name from a TV show I used to watch as a kid…Quatre Winner is a cartoon character.”

There was a moment when Tony did nothing, simply watching Tim. Then the senior field agent took out his phone, tapping away at his phone.

“What are you looking up?” Tim asked, curious.

“Quatre Winner. I just want to be sure you aren’t just paranoid.”

McGee rolled his eyes, “Well maybe if you spelled the name right. It’s Q-U-A-T-R-E.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“It’s French for ‘four.’”

Tony gave Tim a hard look before turning back to his phone, “This the character you’re thinking of?” He asked, showing Tim the picture.

Seeing the animated blonde on the screen, McGee nodded, “Yep, that’s it. I don’t know why Abby’s friend would pick that for a fake ID, but yeah…”

Tony nodded in reply, looking at the page, “Not bad for a cartoon, though. Explosions, robots, guns, very macho—” He stopped, staring at the phone.

“What?” Tim looked worried, “Did you realize something?”

“Yeah, McGee, this show aired in 1995.”

“Yes…”

“You were 17 in 1995.” Tony shook his head, “We are going to have a serious talk about this when this is all over.”

Before Tim could respond with a sarcastic comment about Tony and serious talks, the two field agents saw as a small mob began to run from the underground concert they were parked at.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Tony asked.

Tim shook his head, grabbing his gun, “Come on, we need to check on Abby.”

* * *

 

Of course there would be shots fired at this disaster of a concert, as if James’s nerves needed to be frayed any more than usual. Heaven forbid he and Q (and Q’s friend) have a single night out without having to worry about being attacked. James wasn’t even on a mission; he was the security detail for Q.

Well at least he wasn’t bored.

“Stay down, you two.” He barked at Q and Abby, manhandling them until they were hiding under the stage. He was not about to lose Q in the chaos of the other patrons scrambling to leave the scene. No doubt the band was already long gone, as well as the shooter.

_Unless they were waiting for him or Q…_

Drawing out his gun, James stepped out from under the stage, trying to clear the chaos and find a suitable escape route for them.

It was only when he saw the body that he realized that things were about to get a lot trickier.

“Drop the weapon!”

Oh great…James turned to look at the two men he had met just minutes ago, both of whom had guns trained on him. And there James was, standing over a dead body.

Wonderful.

“Tony! McGee! Don’t shoot!”

It was Abby who spoke this time, crawling from under the stage, “James isn’t the shooter, he was with us when the shots went off.”

Q groaned as he made his way from under the stage as well, “This is a nightmare…”

“I’ll say,” Tony mumbled, looking at the body on the ground, “Hey McGee, what do you think the chances are that this guy is a civilian or Army?”

McGee didn’t even look at the body, keeping an eye on James and Q, “I’d say about as likely that Quatre Winner is his real name.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Who brings a gun to a concert? I mean, really, who just walks around armed all the time?”

“We do, Tony. All the time.”

“Well, McKilljoy, do you often shoot people when you go out dancing?”

Tim sighed, looking up from his computer, where he was finding the personnel file of their victim, “We don’t know if Bond shot the lieutenant, Tony.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Did you see anyone else there with a gun?”

“Besides us?”  A paper ball came in contact with Tim’s head, and it didn’t take a trained investigator (which Tim was) to know it had been Tony’s work. “And since when do you like arresting Abby’s friends?”

“I don’t.” Tony muttered, rubbing his tired eyes, “I would just _really_ like for this to be over quickly so we can go home.”

Ziva chuckled, “Someone is eager to sleep.”

“You would be too, if you’ve had the evening I had.” Tony grumbled, letting his head fall back, “I did not want to spend tonight arresting Abby’s foreign friends. Can you imagine the nightmare this will be?”

The Israeli raised an eyebrow, “Yes, I can.”

Tony paused, then shrugged, “Fair enough.” He ran a hand through his hair, “This is going to be a long night…”

“I know what you mean.”

The three agents paused in their work (or in Tony’s case, complaining) to look up at the new speaker. The man was standing at the edge of their bullpen, dressed in suit and watching them expectantly.

“Can we help you?” Ziva asked, standing slowly.

The man nodded, “I’m sure you can.” He pulled a badge out of his jacket, “Special Agent Felix Leiter, CIA.”

Tony let out a groan, “CIA, great…I don’t suppose you’re just here to mee. t someone?”

Special Agent Leiter quirked an eyebrow, “You could say that, but from what I’ve heard, you currently have them in custody.”

Before Tony could say anything, Ziva cut him off, “I will take you to the interview room.”  She assured the agent before leading him in the right direction.

The two were barely out of sight before Tony dropped his head to his desk, “Spooks…now we have to deal with spooks!”

* * *

 

“This is becoming a nightmare.” Q shook his head, running a hand through his gel-stiffened hair. “All I wanted was to enjoy a night out with a good friend…this is just our luck.”

James sighed, leaning back in his chair, “You get used to these things happening.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Q groaned, hanging his head.

Both men were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. As the visitors became visible, a grin became visible on James’s face, “Felix, fancy seeing you here.”

The CIA agent chuckled, “I’ve run into you at some interesting places, James, but I never imagined you in NCIS custody.” He grinned, “What did you do: blow up a Navy ship?”

James rolled his eyes, “I didn’t do anything, Felix. And how did you even know I was here?”

Felix raised an eyebrow, “You think that the CIA is going to ignore when one of the most explosive agents in the world is on U.S. soil?” He shook his head, “Especially when he comes in contact with the most unpredictable government team out of all of the agencies.”

It was James’s turn to raise a curious eyebrow. “Oh really?” He turned to look at Q.

Q only shrugged, “Abby’s told me some stories. I told you that you would like her and her team.”

“Hold on a second, Q is that you?” Felix blinked, “What the hell are you wearing?”

The Quartermaster rolled his artificially colored eyes, “What the hell does it look like I’m wearing?”

“You undercover or something?”

“I can have a personal life, you know.” Q frowned, crossing his arms.

Felix raised his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. Just seems a little weird considering you don’t technically have a name, but whatever.” He chuckled, “So what seems to be keeping you here? I’ll see if I can sort everything out.”

James shook his head, “Well they’re testing my Walther to see if it matches the bullet that killed their sailor.”

There was silence in the room for a moment, with Felix staring at James and Q. Then the CIA agent spoke up, “But doesn’t it have that palm—”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…damn…”

* * *

 

Hardcore rock and metal poured through every available speaker in the NCIS ballistics lab. Empty Caf-pow cups lined the available desk space.

Of course, none of that helped the mood of one resident forensic specialist.

“WHY WON’T THIS GUN FIRE!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teehee, poor Abby, having to deal with Q's palmprint recognition technology!


End file.
